By Dino Estevao on
2013/05/10 02:53 PM
My journey through the border war: In Search for a home
One day as I limped around the hospital, I stopped at the door of the tent that was also a ward. I heard somebody calling me, when I went in I saw a group of men sitting around on the beds. They were also patient like me, the silence and the expression on their faces made me think that something was amiss. They offered me a seat, “Dino, you must not go back to Namacunde.” One of the man said, “you were lucky to have survived… next time you might not be so lucky.” This were men that I did not know from a bar of soap but the way they addressed their concern, even my ten years old could not disagree. Beside I did not know if my parent survived the massacre at Chiede. After a long debate between these men, different scenarios and possibilities were put before me, but there was of small details could not be overlooked. I was a ten years old with physical disability in a country unknown and no family or clue how to survive. The...